I sleep, eat and cry until I don’t have any more tears. I haven’t thought about how I am going to get through the exams. I feel nothing but the pain inside me. I’m glad that I don't have to explain any more about what happened the night Amy died. People still stare at me, but I’m too caught up in my sadness to even care. I spend most of my time in the library buried under books and papers in an attempt to study. I still can’t get used to the silence that haunts me.
The exams are in June, so I have a month to shake off the grief and start studying, but my mind keeps wandering off. I fight to concentrate but often fail to bring myself back to reality. The mornings are the worst; it is a struggle to get out of bed. Deep down, I want to give up, but when I think about the effort I made to get this far, it doesn't make sense to give up now.
Michael and Carl don't get involved with my life. They are often out and I feel as if they are avoiding me; maybe they are also convinced that Amy died because of me. We were never really close and they each have their own circle of friends. Natasha doesn't call. I suffer because I fell in love and because I wanted to know the truth. She seems to have given up on me after being with me all these years. Suddenly, it dawns on me that I don't have anyone that I can talk to.
When I finally drag myself out of bed, it is midday and it’s sunny. My hair is greasy; I can’t remember when I last had a shower. If I don't start studying soon there won’t be any point in sitting the exams. I try to do some research about Sprites and changelings, but there isn’t anything specific that I can find, just tales and brief legends. I’m not even sure what I am expecting to find. The Internet doesn’t give me any answers and I soon give up after going round in circles.
After a week of struggle and sleepless nights, I have had enough. I am desperate to see him again, even just one more time. And yet I am not sure how I’m going to achieve that. Amy was my best friend and Gabriel was my lover. Everything seems irrelevant at this point. The legends aren't real. Sprites have been around for centuries, but no one ever knew that they existed. I am going over all the events that led me to fall in love with Gabriel and all the emotions, and yet I still believe that it was all worth it.
I still have a massive scar on my stomach and I know that I would never want to go through that pain again, but it was my near death experience that led me to my ability. I feel that I lost a part of me the night Amy was killed. I still remember the blood and her still eyes. Her soul left the body and she was just lying there, helpless, unable to move. I know that there must be a way to bring back my ability again. I’m ready to do anything to get him back. I know that I won't find anyone else that I will love as much as I love Gabriel.
Later that day an idea pops into my head – the fortune-teller! I remember how Gabriel explained that anyone who can read minds or the future must have fairy blood in them. The person would have changeling ancestors from the blood line that was created centuries ago. Far in my memory, I manage to get back to the beginning of the year when I saw the gypsy woman in London; I can't believe that I didn’t think about this before. I vaguely remember her mentioning that I would lose something I valued the most. Her prediction was bizarre; I didn't believe her but she was right. All the memories from that day are somewhere in my mind, but everything is so hazy and unclear. Subconsciously, I know that I have to see her again. She might be the only person that can help me.
‘Hello, Ania?’ says Michael, walking into the kitchen. I jerk and his voice brings me back to reality.
‘Hi Michael, how are you?’ I ask, facing him. His smile fades away as he looks at me.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks, looking concerned. ‘You look rough. Is everything okay?’
I sigh, wondering if it's really that bad. I haven't seen daylight for a few days and I don’t remember the last time I looked in the mirror.
‘Yes, everything is fine. I’m just fed up,’ I answer honestly.
‘I have never seen you look –’ he pauses for a moment as he searches for the right word. ‘– so lost.’
‘Thanks Michael, but I’m fine,’ I assure him.
He leaves the kitchen, but he looks unconvinced. I take my cup of tea and sandwich upstairs. After filling up my empty stomach, I walk to the bathroom. I don't recognise myself when I look at my reflection in the mirror. I look horrific; my hair is all over the place. I have been depressed and unable to bring back the life that I had before Amy’s death. I undress and jump in the shower, trying to wash the dirt and grief off my sunken body. It feels good as the steam and warm water touches my skin. After the shower, I am encouraged that there is still hope. I know that I have to get to London tonight. I dress quickly and within half an hour, I start the engine in my car and begin my journey to seek the answers I need to put things right.
A new energy fills me; a hope that Herne will find a way to bring Gabriel back. While driving, I think about all the hotels near my college. Staying with Natasha isn't an option and Gosia isn't in London, she had mentioned that she was away in Poland, working on her papers for few weeks. Natasha would love to have me back, but I won't give her the satisfaction, so going back home is out of the question. It wouldn't be right to show up after all that’s happened between us. In the end, I decide to stay in some cheap hotel; I can afford a room for one night.
All my actions are impulsive. I debate with myself on how I should handle the conversation with Herne. I can’t just walk in her shop and ask her about fairies. Herne will assume I am not taking her seriously, but she might be my last hope. She must have some kind of power, some connection to my ability. The only problem is that I don't remember which part of London the shop was located in, as we got there purely by accident.
Around half past 9, I arrive at the hotel where Mum and I had once stayed when we first arrived in London eight years ago, not knowing anyone and with no place to live. The hotel looks exactly as I remembered: dated and spooky. The room is basic with a bed and a lamp. I don't have much money and I have to save what little I have to pay Herne. I have a vague idea of how to get to her shop, but all I remember is jumping on a random train with Gosia. We used to do that a lot when we wanted to go shopping.
I use the Internet to look for any information, but there are millions of fortune-tellers around London and it's like searching for a needle in a haystack. After half an hour of hopeless searching, I drift off as the exhaustion and emotions of the long day take over my body. I wake early, still fully clothed and with the laptop on my lap. I never knew that I could sleep so comfortably in my jeans.
It's a bright early morning and I am feeling lucky. I remember that I need to eat; fortunately, breakfast was included in the price. I choose a full English. My last meal was a cheese sandwich that I forced myself to swallow. I’ve been skipping meals recently and the weight had fallen off me, making me look gaunt and unwell. An hour later, I check out and pack everything back into my car.
When I walk outside, I notice the waiter who served me breakfast this morning. He is smoking, looking at the passing crowds of tourists. His looks tell me that he isn't British; he has a slender, heart-shaped face with very pointy high cheekbones and his light blond hair is cut very short. He has a typical Eastern European look. I hesitate for a moment, but then walk up to him and ask him for a cigarette. I’ve never smoked but somehow I have to start a conversation. He seems happy to share it with me.
‘So, have you been working here long?’ I ask, trying not to inhale the nasty smoke.
‘Around seven years,’ he answers, revealing a strong Eastern European accent.
‘Well, that's pretty long,’ I observe.
He nods. ‘I got to pay the bills somehow.’
‘Where are you from?’
‘Poland.’
I smile and cough; the smoke from the cigarette is tickling my throat uncomfortably. I’m never smoking again.
‘My friend is Polish. I am originally from Russia,’ I answer, while my eyes are watering.
He looks surprised.
‘Y
ou don't look like from you are from Russia,’ he says, looking amused by my lack of experience with smoking.
I ask myself if it is so obvious that I don’t look Russian at all. I sigh. ‘Okay, I thought that I was Russian all my life, but I am actually Welsh.’
'A couple of people from Wales work here,' he explains, pointing at the hotel. We talk a bit more and I mention where I am going.
‘The only fortune-tellers I know are gypsies. There is one near where I live, but I wouldn't recommend going there. It's dangerous. Romanian travellers haven't got a great reputation,’ he says.
I wonder why I never thought about this before. In Moscow, I had often seen Romanian travellers on the streets, but I was never interested in their culture. Natasha always used to tell me to be careful around gypsies. He might not be exaggerating.
‘Where is that?’
‘You want to go there?’ he asks, looking surprised.
‘Yes, I need to get there.’
It takes me a while to convince him to give me the directions. I can picture myself walking through the familiar streets with Gosia, but I can’t be sure. Despite his reluctance, he gives me a clear idea of where I need to go. I thank him and leave in a hurry, feeling the excitement that's building inside me.
When I reach my destination, I begin to understand what the Polish waiter was talking about. It's just one of those parts of London where you wouldn't want to get lost, but the strange looks don't discourage me. After twenty minutes of walking, I finally recognise the roads and shops, but I still feel like I am in a different part of the world and no longer in London. I manage to spot a couple of Romanian gypsies in the crowd and I follow them; after a further ten minutes walk I finally find myself standing in front of the shop. It’s weird to think that I was here only a few months ago; I never thought I would be back so soon. Everything looks exactly the same; the poster advertising the tarot reading is still on the door. The shop is open. Hesitating for a long moment, I decide to enter.
‘I knew you would come back.’
The familiar face appears at the counter.
Herne hasn't changed at all; her long dark hair is flowing naturally around her arms and her dark eyes are twinkling. She is wearing a bright, long-sleeved dress. Her wrists and neck are decorated with bracelets and silver necklaces. I inhale the familiar exotic aromas, looking around nervously. I still don't know how I am going to convince her that she needs to help me. The last time I ran away without even paying her for the reading.
‘Um ... were you expecting me?’ I ask, feeling apprehensive. My stomach clenches while her dark eyes are staring holes into my body.
‘You lost something and you want to get it back,’ she says, coming closer to me. My stomach is clawing at my insides. I don’t even know why I am nervous. I suck the corner of my lip, hesitating. How am I going to tell her that she is right? Last time I left so suddenly, more shocked than ever before.
She starts lighting the candles and twists the open sign to the other side, so the shop is closed for the public. She moves quickly, covering all the windows. There is something about her; I can sense her powerful energy, so different from anything else that I ever experienced. I wonder if she already knows why I am here. She obviously doesn't want to be disturbed by anyone. I am not sure how I should tell her; I have to protect Gabriel and choose my words wisely. When she finishes lighting all the candles the shop looks more inviting. All the stuff on the floor seems to be alive; the mixture of the boxes, pots and herbs make me feel uneasy about the ambience of the room.
‘I had an ability to see things that other people were unable to see. I was stabbed last year and after that, I started seeing people – creatures. As a result, I got attached to one, and he got attached to me too. I witnessed a murder few weeks ago. My best friend died and I think I was supposed to be the victim. I lost consciousness and after that I lost him. The ability seemed to vanish,’ I explain, trying to make sure I haven't given away too much by choosing particular words, but I am not certain if I conveyed everything that I meant without forcing the word Sprite out of my mouth.
Herne isn't focused on my words. Her eyes are closed. I stare at her, wondering if she understood my dilemma. After a few seconds, she gets up and disappears in the back, leaving me breathless. The adrenaline kicks in and I can no longer stand the silence in the shop. Then she comes back, carrying a large, dusty old book. Herne blows off the dust and opens it. She begin searching, turning the pages quickly and whispering something that I can't understand. My body is shaking with excitement. The warmth of the candles caresses my skin; the aroma of jasmine is so intense. The air is thick and I exhale the vibrations of the room.
‘Do you want to see him again?’ Herne asks, focusing on me.
I nod.
‘The blood of a changeling is still inside me. It's been in my family for generations, but no one was ever able to see them. You are the first. It will cost you to reverse what's happened.’
‘Aren't you afraid to talk about it?’
‘Don't worry, they won't know,’ she assures me, but I am not convinced. If anything happens to Gabriel because of me, I will never forgive myself.
‘I will do anything to have him back.’
‘Unfortunately, there is nothing that I can do right now. You must wait until the twenty-first of the month; this is the only day when you can get your ability back. Every person in this world has this ability inside them, but it's all about faith and no one knows how to believe in this sort of thing anymore. At the same time, this won't be easy; there is a sacrifice.’
‘I don't really understand. Why do I need to wait a month?’ I ask, confused. Her words don't make much sense and what does she mean about a sacrifice?
‘If you want to do this properly you have to become a vessel,’ she continues, glancing at me.
‘Please explain,’ I say. Her words frighten me. I do love him, but surely I won't die for him.
She looks annoyed.
‘It's an old ritual that has been in my family for a long time. The first day of our calendar summer is always magical, and this is the only day that will allow you to get back your ability. There are many legends about the people of peace, but only a handful are real. To be able to see what you lost, you have to sacrifice yourself; your blood and your soul. There is a ritual that requires your blood – a lot of it. After the sacrifice, you need to bathe in seawater. I can’t stress enough that this pain will be unbearable. Your blood and sacrifice will change the order and you will meet the one that you lost.’
‘Herne, you said that the ritual requires my blood. What do I have to do to myself?’ I ask, not wanting to hear any more, but I came here for a reason so I brace myself for the answer.
‘You need to convince your body that you are dying, and if you almost died a year ago then you need to be in a similar state of mind.’
‘So I have to stab myself – is that what are you saying?’
‘If that's what's happened before then you’ll probably need to use a knife. Yes, if the pain is real your ability will come back. It has to be done exactly at the sunrise. After getting to the sea, you will be weak and you're risking your life at that point. You can’t do this by yourself, there has to be another person with you,’ she explains.
I feel dizzy; I never imagined having to go through that pain again. I am mad to even consider this, but it’s worth going through the pain if it means I will see Gabriel. I can’t believe I’m going to stab myself and risk my life to see him again.
‘How do you know if this is going to work?’ I ask.
‘I don't, but if you love him then you must have faith that it will work. This book here is one of the oldest ritual books that I have. It's only going to work if you believe that you can do it. Remember, this is not a game. You need another person with you to treat the wound. I have their blood, so I will never be able to experience what you have, but you, on the other hand, have a different energy in you that embrac
es me in a way that I can't explain,’ she concludes, staring at me.
I exhale the air that I have been holding in my lungs. Who can I even ask to hold my hand during this whole crazy ritual? I can already imagine Gosia's face if I tell her that I want to stab myself to get back with my fairy lover!
‘This is so absurd; he had never even told me how he felt about me,’ I say.
Herne looks angry with me for doubting myself and Gabriel’s feelings for me.
‘If you don't know, then don't do it. Why have you even come here today?’
‘Because I can't live without him.’
‘Then you know how he feels about you, otherwise you wouldn’t have even considered it,’ she snaps.
I think that I have offended her. Herne has to be right; he kept coming back and saying that he couldn't stay away from me. He must have feelings for me that he couldn't understand before. The whole idea seems unrealistic, but I am willing to try anything. I look at Herne, who is still reading something from her old book. She doesn’t ask me for a payment. Somehow I want to believe her – despite the reputation, I know she wants to help me. Then another crazy idea pops into my head.
‘Herne?’ I ask, hesitating for a moment. ‘Would you be willing to help me, you know, with the ritual?’
She lifts her dark eyes to look at me. Her expression confuses me. She looks stunned for a split second, but then she clears her throat quickly.
‘I suppose that I can, but I expect you to fund all necessary travel arrangements. You didn’t pay for your tarot reading the last time you were here, but you’ve intrigued me, so I won't take any money from you while we wait for the ritual. We have a month to prepare.’
I nod. I want to get up and hug her, but I restrain myself. This is what I am expected to do to see Gabriel again, so I have to agree with her on her terms. She is right; I do have to think this through. I can't make irrational decisions. Gabriel will help me to make the right choice. He used to influence me, so it will be up to him.
‘Where are we going to do the ritual?’ I ask.
‘Anywhere near the sea; the choice is yours.’
I think about the place where Gabriel took me for our first walk, Oxwich Beach. It would be empty if we move to the same place, further from the pathway. I explain to her what I have in mind and she agrees with my plans. She asks me to call her when I’ve decided. I have mixed feelings about what just happened. It’s the end of May and there’s nothing I can do but wait until June approaches. I go over what I must do in my mind; I don't have the courage to slash myself with a knife. Would I risk my life to see him again, the man who makes me so happy and sad at the same time? He will know what I am planning and if he wants me then he will influence me to make the right decision.
As I walk back to my car, I feel as if someone is watching me. I turn to the right and the muscles in my stomach clench. I instantly recognise the mysterious lady that is somehow always around me. She is staring at me from across the road. Reluctantly, I change my direction, but she starts walking. It takes me a few seconds to decide if I want to follow her; it is too much of a coincidence that she is on this street. I try to cross the busy road, but the cars are going at quite a speed that when I finally manage to get to the other side she vanishes around the corner.
18